


a brief inquiry into online relationships - Jae

by timelxrd



Series: "and they were zoomates!" "oh my god they were zoomates" [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU, Collaboration, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Humour, Human!thirteen, Romantic Fluff, and they were zoomates, dumb gays, illustrator!yaz, quarantine fic, thasmin, writer!thirteen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23434822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelxrd/pseuds/timelxrd
Summary: A writer, an illustrator, and a national lockdown. Forced to work from home, one online meeting might just change their lives forever.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Series: "and they were zoomates!" "oh my god they were zoomates" [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685803
Comments: 39
Kudos: 89





	1. Chapter 1

The morning sun is hot in its attention-seeking and Jae basks in it for longer than necessary, caught between dishevelled covers and spread-eagle over her cloud-like mattress. Another day, another wasted bout of sunshine between spells of rain. 

The balcony to their flat is the only solace she can seek once she’s dragged herself out of bed and brushed her teeth, the blazing sun a disguise for the slightly chilly draft between sleeping buildings. Pulling a dark blue hoodie emblazoned with a rainbow over her head, she leans against the railings and takes in a fresh lungful of oxygen as her body wakes itself up for the day ahead. 

There’s nothing in her diary apart from a video call scheduled for this evening, so she takes her time eyeing the familiar street and rooftops until the door to the balcony on her right slides open. Jude, her eldest neighbour, sports a fluffy pink cardigan and a mug full of coffee as she steps into view, offering up a warm smile Jae returns tenfold. 

“How’s it going, miss Martin? Love the cardi.”

“Thank you, love,” Jude replies through a bashful chuckle, eyeing the blonde’s choice of pyjama shorts and long, rainbow socks with more than a hint of amusement. “My granddaughter bought it for me. Perhaps she could teach you how to dress one day, too.”

Jae’s hand is pressed firmly over her heart when she responds, a faux-shocked gasp echoing between their three-metre gap. “We can’t all be ex-supermodels like you, Jude.”

“No,” she agrees with the confidence of someone who takes their time picking out their clothes for the day and _knows_ they look good either way, “You definitely can’t.”

Once their mutual laughter has died down, Jae’s features soften and she slips her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. “Can Bill and I get you anything from the shops, by the way? We really don’t mind going again if we didn’t get enough yesterday.”

Jude’s gratitude is loud and clear in her smile, and she shakes her head with a sleep-doused chuckle. “I’m perfectly stocked up. You girls really are a blessing doing so much for me.”

“It’s what any decent person would do,” Jae shrugs in genuine earnest, rocking on her toes. “You sure you don’t need anything? It’s really no fuss.”

“No, no. I’ll be fine, love. You two take care of yourselves,” her white-haired neighbour implores with a wave of her free hand, the other drawing her coffee to her lips and alerting Jae to her sudden craving for the warming beverage. “I’ve tackled worse than this.”

Bill is padding slowly out of her room when Jae slips back inside for warmth ten minutes later, flicking the kettle on as she observes her flatmate settle a pair of aviators over her eyes and grumble out a _good morning._

Their brown tabby cat is hot on her heels, offering up a hiss when she spots Jae leaning against the counter looking for her favourite sweet treats. 

“One too many with Clara last night?” Jae crows, frowning when she doesn’t find her preferred breakfast in the same place as usual. 

Bill’s voice is hoarse when she slumps into a stool at the breakfast bar, dropping her forehead against the cool surface. “Shut up and make me some coffee.”

“Can’t find my —” Jae huffs as she opens a cupboard to her right, then closes it _loudly_ after herself, much to Bill’s open chagrin. “Bill, have you seen my —” Three cupboards raided later, and three progressively loud slams, Jae shouts out in glee. “Custard creams! Best breakfast of them all.” 

“I hate you so much,” Bill muffles against folded arms, earning a stifled flurry of laughter from the blonde. 

Pouring hot water into a mug half-filled with pure coffee grounds, Jae adds four, five, six cubes of sugar and stirs, biscuit crumbs already catching in the ends of her hair and the material of her hoodie. “No, you don’t.” 

“Did you at least grab some bacon and eggs when we went shopping?” Bill murmurs groggily when she straightens up, accepting the coffee Jae hands over and preparing herself for the sugar overload before she even tries taking a sip. 

When Jae simply bites into the corner of her lip in response to her question, pointedly averting her gaze, Bill groans. “ _Jae_.” 

“I thought you meant the sweets! I love the little foam eggs. ‘Specially dipped in tea,” Jae protests, bare feet backing out towards the door when Bill looks like she might _actually_ make good on her threats to chop her fingers off and feed them to the cat. 

“You are _so_ , _so_ lucky I’m barely conscious right now,” Bill growls instead, allowing Jae to release the breath she’d been holding. 

Taking pity, she roots around in the cupboard until she finds a pack of painkillers, filling up a glass of water and setting both before Bill’s slumped form. “You should consider taking a shower, I have a meeting later and I’m pretty sure they’ll be able to sense beer breath and sex smells through the screen. What did you even _do_ on voice-clock last night?”

“Facetime,” the dark-haired woman corrects not without exasperation. “And hey!” she barks once she’s swallowed down two capsules. “Just because you’re not getting any, doesn’t mean I have to suffer.”

Jae crouches to fill up their tabby cat’s water bowl, earning a low murmur from the feline headed her way. Bypassing Bill’s comment, she reaches out an open palm to the cat. “Morning, Missy. How’re you doing today? Hope Bill didn’t keep you up all night, too,” she murmurs in a high, cooing voice. 

“It was a _good_ night,” Bill bites back in defence, but it doesn’t sound very threatening when it’s muffled against the collar of her hoodie.

Jae settles, cross-legged on the floor with one of Missy’s toys; a mouse on the end of a string, and drags the offending item just before her to coax the cat into action. 

Precisely when Bill turns away, Missy leaps forward to claw carelessly at her bare knee instead, and if she were human, she’d undoubtedly be smirking at this point in time. “Missy! Ow. Bill, she hates me. This cat _literally_ hates me. What did I ever do to her?” 

“Missy doesn’t hate you,” Bill grumbles, lifting her head just to purse her lips and invite the young cat onto the breakfast bar. Hopping onto the counter, the tabby brushes up against Bill’s chest with a happy purr, all the while fixing Jae with a smug look. “See? She’s an angel. You probably just scared her.” 

“I give up,” Jae huffs, nursing the thin, bloody tear in her skin for a moment longer before standing. “I’m going to finish off this piece.” 

“Oh! Let me know if it’s anything saucy,” Bill interrupts before she leaves the room, scratching behind Missy’s ears and earning bountiful purrs and laps of her tongue. “I wouldn’t mind a read.” 

“Bill, for the last time, I write _children’s books_ ,” Jae groans, colour flooding to her cheeks at the mere _thought_ of writing anything that obscene. Maybe she really does need to go out and socialise more once this has all washed over. “Now go and shower. Maybe it’ll get your mind out of the gutter.” 

“Yes, _mum,”_ Bill murmurs around a mouthful of coffee, barely stifling a laugh when Jae trips up on one of Missy’s many plush mice on the journey to her room in her distracted state. “There’s a toy on the floor, there, Jae.”

“Yeah, thanks for that, Bill,” she hears her grumble from her doorway before it clicks shut behind her. 

* * *

Between sips of rapidly cooling coffee, Jae launches up her computer and sets up her record player in the corner of her room, Biffy Clyro’s low tones filling the space. 

There’s an open notebook on her desk, half-formed ideas and observations and character descriptions scrawled in messy cursive across the page. 

The sight reminds her of her scheduled meeting and, bringing her knee up to her chest while the other swings casually beneath her, she unlocks her phone to open Instagram. “Yasmin Khan,” she recalls as she types in the username, drawing up her illustrator’s profile and scrolling through to catch up on her most recent artwork. 

There’s nothing new up for today but it doesn’t stop her glancing through, features brightening in genuine curiosity with each passing post. She’d contacted her only a short time ago after her last illustrator retired, and a fresh new addition has been much needed. Yasmin Khan shows all the signs of a talented individual deserving of more success.

By the time she sets her phone back down, an hour has passed but her excitement has increased tenfold, and she makes a mental note to inform the younger woman of her brilliant skills when she can later on. 

Booted up, her computer displays the outline of her most recent project and, on a separate tab, lays a long list of emails she’d successfully avoided until now. 

From her publisher, she opens an email and scrawls her signature over the attached form with no little sense of difficulty, breathing a groan when she accidentally archives the email twice before she can even read it through in full. 

As though watching from close by, her phone lights up with her publisher’s name five minutes later and she bites back a grimace as she presses _accept_. 

Her voice is a touch too high to be natural when she chimes in with a cheery “Hiya, Donna!”

 _“Jae Smith, are you_ **_incapable_ ** _of answering your emails on time?”_

“Listen, it’s been a really busy few d—”

_“The whole country is on lockdown, Jae, what could you possibly have been doing?”_

Jae’s next excuse is halted in its journey through her microphone when the older woman sighs through the end of the line. She can picture her at her huge, mahogany desk, rubbing a hand down her tired face and readying herself to tackle another frightened writer right after this. _“Please just get the rest of those forms signed and send me the final draft of your work by the end of the day, okay?”_

“Can do, ma’am,” Jae nods, using her free hand to draft up an email and, no, wait — “Uh— how do I attach a file to an email, again?” 

Donna’s sigh is loud enough for Jae to draw her phone from her ear a touch, her guilty grimace firmly set. _“There should be an icon in the right corner next to the reply button, like a paperclip? You got it?”_

“Yeah! Got it,” Jae’s response is instantaneous, and she clicks on the little graphic with a cheer. “Okay, I’m sending it to you now.” A beat passes where she watches, wide-eyed and anxious, before she’s notified that the email has been sent. “That’s _ace_. Technology’s crazy these days, right?”

Despite herself, Donna breathes a faint scoff through the mic. _“Thank you, Jae. And you know you have a meeting this evening with the illustrator, right?”_ she reminds her, apprehension lacing her tone. _“Please tell me you know how to use Zoom?”_

“Of _course!”_ Jae lies, eyes growing wide as she starts up a quick Google search. “Who doesn’t know how to use plume?”

 **“** **_Zoom_ ** **,”** Donna corrects less than a breath later, nursing a rapidly growing ache in her temples. _“I’m trusting you with this, Jae. Please don’t miss this call. She’s one of the best illustrators we’ve had the chance to connect with so far.”_

“It’s _chill_ , Donna,” Jae shrugs, sitting back in her swivel chair and hooking her ankle over her knee. She uses her free foot to turn herself around slowly, kicking out whenever she slows. “I’ve got this. Have a bit of faith in me.” 

_“I would love to, if you didn’t make it so hard for me,”_ Donna bites back, scribbling something down in the background. _“I’ll send you a reminder an hour before the meeting is scheduled, in case you’re_ **_awfully busy_ ** _in that flat of yours.”_

“Aw, thanks, Donna,” Jae cooes with a shit-eating grin, letting out a tiny squeak when she spins her chair hard enough to almost send it toppling. Righting herself, she clears her throat. “You’re the best.”

 _“Oh, bugger off.”_ She can hear the distinct roll of her eyes without seeing it. _“Get the rest of those forms signed and please make yourself presentable for your meeting later. This is extremely important.”_

“Got my shirt in the wash as we speak,” Jae replies smugly, returning to her computer. “Laters, Donna.”

 _“Let me know how it goes as soon as you can,”_ Donna instructs with authority which used to intimidate her. Now it just makes her snort in amusement and do anything to make her even more exasperated. _“Bye, Jae.”_

“Kisses!” Jae quips snarkily down the line before it cuts off and she affords herself a laugh. When she eyes the fresh tab, though, her stomach sinks and she jogs from her room with a frown. “Hey, Bill! Do you know how to use _zoom_?”

Twenty minutes and a handful of frustrated altercations later, Jae finally commits the process to memory. “Okay, and then — you press this, and you can start the meeting, right?” she probes, hovering over the _start meeting_ button with a scrunch to her nose and narrowed eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yep,” Bill affirms, breathing a sigh of relief and lifting her hands in prayer. “Thank the heavens. I swear someone put you down on this Earth just to reduce my brain cell count.”

“Hey!” Jae protests, sinking back in her chair with Yasmin Khan’s contact details ready and waiting for their meeting hours in advance. She’s not risking closing the tab at this point if she wants to keep her career intact. “I got it in the end, didn’t I?”

“You owe me takeaway for this,” Bill grumbles as she moves to stand, leading the way to the kitchen. “Consider it compensation for mental exhaustion.” 

“It’s a deal.”  
  


* * *

  
Halfway through a slice of pizza come evening, Bill pipes up with a pleased hum. “So what’s this book about anyway? Is it like the one with the robot dog?”

“Not this time,” Jae notes, adding a handful of kiwi slices to her plain margherita pizza before finishing it off with sweetcorn, much to her flatmate’s disgust. “This one’s about a girl who travels in time and space on her ship.”

“Let me guess, the ship is a giant pineapple?” 

Jae lifts her gaze from the masterpiece before her to regard Bill with wide eyes.

“No way. Please tell me you’re lying.”

At the pleading nature of her voice, Jae tosses her head back with a laugh. “Nah, I’m kidding,” she answers to put her at ease, cutting a slice to bite into with a satisfied sigh. “It’s a police box.”

“A police box,” Bill echoes, scrunching her nose in displeasure when Jae takes another bite. She sets her own back down, bile suddenly climbing up her throat at the sight. “Of course.”

“It’s bigger on the inside, too,” Jae adds matter-of-factly, speaking through a mouthful too large for her own good. “S’got a swimming pool in it,” she mumbles, spraying crumbs everywhere “And a bowling alley.” 

Bill tilts her head in faux-seriousness. “What about a sex dungeon?” 

Promptly, Jae chokes. 

* * *

There’s ten minutes left before her meeting is due when she remembers her work shirt is still in the tumble dryer. 

Brilliant white is _ever so slightly_ amiss when she plucks the offending item from the basin, and with a muffled groan, she finds the traitorous blue sock which stole and replaced its colour. “ _Shit.”_

A thorough and messy scan through her wardrobe returns only a bright blue shirt freckled with palm leaves, so, forcing herself to stop fretting, she buttons it up over her weathered sports bra and shakes her head at herself in the mirror. “Donna’s going to kill me for this.”

She’s still wriggling into a pair of skinny black jeans five minutes before the meeting is due, leaving her to skid into her desk chair and drag up the chat in a flurry of gangly limbs. 

She zips up her fly and combs her fingers through her dishevelled blonde locks before typing out a message and clicking _send._

_Jae Smith [5:55pm]: Hey! It’s Jae here, just making sure you’re ready before we start?_

She hesitates for a breath before shooting out another, opting for casualness over professionalism. 

_Jae Smith [5:55pm]: Can never get the hang of this thing so if anything goes timey wimey it’s me not you._

Unconsciously, she finds herself preening again at her hair; her single ear cuff; the ring hugging her signet finger. She gathers her notebook and her printed draft just as her monitor _pings_ with a message. 

_Yasmin Khan [5:56pm]: Hi Jae, all good this end. Ready when you are._

“Right, so, this button, then —“ Jae goes through the process she’s learnt this afternoon aloud as she sets about coordinating a call, last-minute nerves catching her off guard. Admittedly, it takes her some difficulty to navigate, but with a cheer, she finally finds the option she was looking for. 

_You are inviting Yasmin Khan to a scheduled Zoom meeting_.

“Oh. That’s exciting. Very professional.”

The meeting room is empty for a moment before the program buffers and a dark-haired woman with angled, naturally pretty features illuminates her screen. 

As for herself, the camera is blank, so with a grimace, she taps at the top of her monitor and furrows her brows, guilt gracing features the other woman likely cannot observe. “Hello? Can you see me?” 

The other woman is anxious in her response, and her heart twinges further. 

_“Erm, no.”_

“Oh for—“ _Be professional, Jae._ “Sorry, one sec.” She’s debating calling Bill in when a small icon with a red line through the camera catches her eye. She clicks it and the screen immediately captures her slightly ruffled features. Her immediate grin is triumphant. “Ah! There we are.”

She thinks it brightens her shirt, too, so she spares it a brief glance before forcing her focus back to the other woman and offering up an eager wave. Force of habit. “Hi Yaz! Can I call you Yaz?”

The dark-haired woman returns the greeting with a friendly smile, alerting Jae to her slightly anxious nature and prompting her breeziest grin to date. This shouldn’t be too bad after all. “ _Hi, Jae, and yeah, you can.”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait guys!!! hope this makes up for it x

_ “Hi Yaz! Can I call you Yaz?” _

_ The dark-haired woman returns the greeting with a friendly smile, alerting Jae to her slightly anxious nature and prompting her breeziest grin to date. This shouldn’t be too bad after all. “Hi, Jae, and yeah, you can.” _

__

* * *

“Brilliant! It’s nice to meet you, Yaz!” Jae chimes politely, thumbing at the corner of her already dog-eared notebook as she takes her in again. Her nose scrunches under the command of her grin. “Sorry about all that, by the way. I’m rubbish with anything other than a pencil and a notebook and a fresh pack of custard creams. When I say I’m like a granny when it comes to technology it’s not an exaggeration.”

Pointedly, she brandishes a full pack at the miniature camera before cringing internally and thinking better of it with a rosy hue to her cheeks.  _ Don’t embarrass yourself. It’s just the first meeting. Relax.  _

If Yaz’s stifled, bemused hum of a laugh is anything to go by, she hasn’t scared her off yet. “ _ It’s alright, you can’t be as bad as my dad _ ,” she jokes shyly. 

Jae can’t stifle her amusement for long, breathing a laugh as she tucks a lock of messy blonde hair behind her decorated ear. She wouldn’t want anything to interrupt the sight of Yaz’s angled features — for observation’s sake. 

“I bet I could give him a run for his money,” she barks back, unable to wipe the smile off her face. It’s nice to talk to someone other than her flatmate for once, that’s for sure. She can’t help the excitement bubbling in her stomach like a shaken can of coke with the ability to talk to someone new. 

“Anyway, how’s isolation life been treating you, Yaz?” she asks before her thoughts can derail. “I’ve never seen Sheffield so quiet.”

She tames her enthusiasm as best she can when Yaz responds, reaching for her glass of water and taking a sip. 

_ “Erm, not too bad,”  _ the dark-haired woman responds, glossy locks catching in the descending sun from a window to her left. Her home looks sleek, as far as she can see, neat and orderly and quite the opposite of Jae’s dishevelled, brimming shelves and cupboards.  _ “Just been drawing a lot and watching crappy TV. And FaceTiming my family; they like to check up on me.”  _ A beat passes where Yaz’s distracted, yearning tone piques her interest, but she dare not probe into it. 

_ “What about you?”  _ she hears her murmur in return a moment later, idly brushing some dust from her cheek while the other remains settled in her lap, out of sight of the webcam.  _ “How’re you doing?” _

Jae doesn’t hesitate before answering, lifting a leg to bring her knee to her chest and let the other one dangle from her desk chair. She wraps an arm around it and leans back. “Honestly? I think I’m losing the plot. I hate being cooped up inside. Always have done. It’s sending me doolally, I swear! A great example being this morning.” She takes a breath, reminding herself that the connection isn’t always the most reliable and her speech is always a little fast when she encounters someone new — more from excitement than nervousness. “I left a blue sock in the wash with my only white shirt and —” 

She doesn’t have to finish the rest of the sentence before — “ _ Oh, no _ ,” Yaz mutters, hissing a breath through her nose while her lips twist into a faint grimace. 

She nods resolutely, “Yeah, exactly.” Then, drawing her knee away from her chest slightly, she motions to the blue monstrosity clinging loosely to her form. “Hence this  _ lovely _ shirt I’m currently wearing.”

Yaz is an awful liar, and it shows on her face when she murmurs her reassurance. “ _ I mean — it’s nice. _ ”

With a distinct lack of shame and in brutal honesty, Jae shakes her head and grins, plucking a cat hair from the garment and casting it aside. “It’s okay, Yaz. You can say it’s ugly.” 

Any embarrassment she feels fades the instant that Yaz’s tense posture eases and a genuine grin befalls her full lips. “ _ It’s — kind of ugly, yeah. Sorry.” _

“No offence taken! This shirt is  _ horrendous _ ,” Jae counters with a laugh which forms her grin, pearly whites on display. 

She can’t help but notice the way Yaz’s head falls forward as though to hold back her own amusement. When her heart twinges slight in response, she doesn’t quite know how to feel. 

_ Oh _ . That’s new. Worrying? 

No.  _ Exciting _ . 

“Oh!” Jae breathes aloud, interrupting her thoughts and allowing them to scatter over the surface of her desk. She shifts forward in her seat, clutching her knee to her chest once more to keep her balance. “By the way. Before we start, I just wanted to say thank you for being a part of this project. When I saw your work I got so excited because it is really, properly brilliant so I was  _ so _ happy when you agreed to come on board,” she enthuses, leg bouncing, lips curving upwards. Excitement rolls off of her in waves, and she allows it. 

She also notes Yaz’s responding blush with a hint of pride. 

The other woman’s flustered response is clear in her tone. “ _ No, no. Thank  _ **_you_ ** _ , Jae. I — um, I was basically brok— I mean, I was struggling a bit for work before this. So you’ve sort of — saved me?” _ she admits in a stumbling effort, each word catching and grasping and giving a sure tug at the strings connected to her heart. 

When she spots her fighting an internal conflict even through the screen, Jae breathes a soft sigh through her nose and tilts her head, seeking her out. “Well, I find it hard to believe that,” she implores with no lack of shock. “Your stuff’s brilliant, Yaz. Absolutely brilliant, I promise.” 

She waits for Yaz’s slight nod before allowing herself to continue. 

“Right.” Grabbing for her navy blue patterned notebook and plucking a pen from the star-littered pencil case at her side, Jae guides them fluidly back on track. “Shall we get down to business? Get the  _ boring  _ part over and done with?” 

_ “Ready when you are,” _ Yaz prompts with another bemused smile, organising the sheets before her as she straightens up in her seat. 

“So, am I right in thinking you’ve read the summary of the story?” Jae inquires gently, relaxed in her posture compared to her younger counterpart. “If you haven’t, that’s absolutely fine — it’s a children’s book, so, like — it doesn’t take much out-of-the-box thinking.” 

_ “I have read it, yeah,”  _ the other woman informs with a nod, shoulders easing with time.  _ “Kinda wished I had a book like this to read when I was little, to be honest. It’s a really great idea, Jae.”  _

“Oh,” the blonde breathes, gaze flickering between the draft at her side and the screen while a bashful hue coats her cheeks and the very tips of her ears. “Thanks, Yaz. That means loads.” 

Then, before her attention can slip away, she scoops her notebook up and checks off a bullet point she’d made earlier. “And the description of the main character? Pretty sure I attached it in the email, but I think I’m cursed with bad tech skills, if I’m honest with you.” 

_ “Amy Pond; a redhead little girl with wide green eyes, dressed in a starry night dress and red wellies?”  _ Yaz repeats the summary back with a smile, but it’s gentle rather than mocking; almost a little adoring. Towards the character she’s built, that is. “ _ She’s feisty and cheeky but lonely, too. That’s why she sets out for the stars to find a friend.”  _

“That’s the one,” Jae affirms with a grin, crossing off another point on her list. “If you want a longer version of the description, I can always type one up and email it to you, by the way?”

“ _ This one’s pretty detailed anyway, but I’m sure a bit extra can’t do any harm?”  _ Yaz returns, plucking up the large, bound book at her side in the corner of the screen.

In the meantime, Jae scribbles down a reminder and circles it with enough enthusiasm to weaken the paper beneath. “Brilliant. I’ll send it your way right after this.” 

_ “I’ve actually started on some illustrations — just mock-ups and ideas, really — if you wanted to check them out?” _ Through the camera, she spots her opening the book and lifting her brows in question, a tentative smile on her lips.  _ “They might not be the finished copy of the main character, or exactly what you’re imagining, but —”  _

“Hey, hey, enough of that. I’d  _ love  _ to see what you’ve come up with, Yaz,” Jae implores playfully, but her genuine excitement is displayed in the way she immediately leans forward on her desk, elbows jutting. Her sole attention befalls Yaz in an instant. 

Seemingly put a little more at ease, Yaz props the first busied page up towards her laptop camera and remains hidden half behind it. “ _ I’ve done a few, but this is the first idea.” _

Before the screen, clear as day, is a detailed sketch of her main protagonist, fierce red hair just barely touching her shoulders and a star-dusted nightdress topped off by boisterous red wellies. There’s a small suitcase tucked at her side and a navy bobble hat hugging her head. 

_ “What do you think?” _ Yaz prompts, taking notice of Jae’s stunned silence. 

“Wow,” is all she can summon for the moment while she peers closer to the screen. Within seconds, though, she’s  _ beaming _ , clapping her hands together with glee. “That’s brilliant, Yaz. Just what I was imagining, actually. You sure you’re not psychic?”

Through a laugh which sounds more like a sigh of relief, Yaz draws the image back.  _ “Thank you. I wasn’t sure how much detail you were looking for, so I tried my best to get an even balance." _

“It’s brilliant, Yaz. Honestly,” Jae insists, leaning close enough to the screen that she may as well shove the webcam up her nose. She feels like a child at Christmas. “Do you have any more?”

_ “Sure, let me just —”  _

Another flip of the page, another uniquely styled profile of the main character. 

Jae can’t withhold her gasp, lips curving ever further. Her eyes are wide when she takes in the unique illustration. “Yaz,” she starts, wetting her lips. “You know when I said your art was brilliant earlier?”

She follows Yaz’s visible swallow. “ _ Yeah?” _

“Well, my point resolutely stands, because  _ that —”  _ She gestures to the page Yaz continues to bear to the camera, “ — is  _ brilliant!” _

However stifled, Yaz’s responding chuckle is music to her ears. 

“ _ Thank you,” _ she replies in earnest, lowering the bound paperback to her desk and allowing her grin to blossom under witness this time. “ _ I — um — I have stuff other than this too; a few other designs and a  _ **_very_ ** _ basic cover piece but I can just scan those and send them across to you, if you want? Save me keep showing you over a webcam?” _

Jae works hard to keep herself blurting out a succession of compliments, clenching a hand around her knee to work her limited impulse control through her fingers. 

She settles on another easy grin for now, delighting in the echoing one granted from Yaz. She likes Yaz’s smile; it starts in her eyes, big and brown and glistening even through the patchy quality of her webcam. It moves to the creases at the corners of her lids and the bridge of her nose next, painting lines against brown skin. Then there are the  _ dimples _ , faint through hazy pixels and — 

Oh. She should probably respond, shouldn’t she?

“Yes, please!” Jae all but pleads, dropping her knee back down and nudging her chair forward so she can maintain at least a semblance of professionalism.  _ If Donna could see her now _ . “Send me anything and everything. I’d love to see it all, honestly, Yaz.”

_ “Okay, I’ll get on that once we’re done here.”  _ Yaz’s smile is wistful and the suggestion draws Jae’s attention back to the present; they’ve only got so much time, unfortunately. She can’t exactly expect Yaz to stay on call all night — they have lives to lead, after all; things to do, other people to speak to. 

That’s not to say she wouldn’t already mind it. 

“Brilliant,” she breathes, trying to hide her faint disappointment. 

After all, it’s nice to talk to someone new amidst all this, and Jae has never been one to enjoy restrictions — nor being cooped up inside for an extended period of time. Yaz is her only connection to life outside the same four walls, now. She’s not going to be giving that up very easily. 

In time, they move on. Each point in the narrative; each character; each scene is worked through and summarised and Jae finds herself lost in the process even more so than usual. 

They’re finishing up on a particular scene of importance — the point where Amy Pond discovers a ship which is bigger on the inside has crash-landed in her back garden — when something catches at Jae’s bare ankle and scratches hard enough to draw blood. 

Yaz is busy jotting down each description of the interior in order to start work on a new sketch, but Jae’s sudden hiss must catch her attention. 

_ “Everything okay, Jae?”  _ Yaz questions in concern, brows pinched, pen still against a half-filled page. 

“ _ Missy _ ,” Jae chides, glancing over the neat, puckered line gracing the inside of her ankle before she reaches down and scoops the attention-seeking feline from her feet. “You  _ little —  _ Oh, sorry Yaz, forgot you were there for a moment.”

Heaving the brown tabby cat up into her lap despite its  _ very _ vocal displeasure, Jae turns her to face the screen. Green eyes flit towards Yaz’s form and a grumbled  _ meow _ echoes through the microphone. “This is Missy. Missy, meet Yaz. She’s a sweetheart, I promise.”

While Jae begins petting through Missy’s fur, ignoring the grumbled noises and pathetic swipes of claws she grants her, Yaz leans closer to the screen with a knitted brow. “ _ She seems —”  _

“Grumpy? Ungrateful? Spiteful?” Jae proposes, ducking to brush a kiss against the top of her head. Missy hisses, batting out a paw which narrowly dodges her eye. “I feed her, I wash her, I let her sleep in my room, I clean up after her when she decides my shoes are the perfect place to go to the toilet.”

Missy yawls, making no move to draw away from her arms, but making a concerted effort to scratch at her arms as much as possible. “And  _ this _ is what I get.”

Delighting in Yaz’s amused grin and the way she hovers a palm over her mouth to keep from laughing at the display, Jae continues. “You know what the worst thing is?”

“ _ What?” _

“She only acts like this around me,” Jae grumbles, pursing her lips and scrunching her nose when Missy tucks herself against her neck, feigning innocence, then hisses  _ right _ into her ear. “Around my flatmate, she’s as good as gold.”

Unbeknownst to her, Yaz has peeled her hand away and given over to the hilarity of the scene, and she only notices when instead of responding, she earns a flurry of genuine laughter. 

Dragging her eyes away from the feline currently prizing her claws through her messy hair, she glances at the screen just as Yaz’s amusement peaks. 

It really shouldn’t make her stomach flip so much, but she’ll bask in it for now. 

“She hates me, Yaz, I swear,” Jae whines, only adding to Yaz’s already uncontrollable giggles. 

It’s the most relaxed she’s looked so far, and it is truly a sight to behold. 

Warmth spreads from the tips of her ears down to her neck, plaguing her with goosebumps which serve as a temporary paradox. In her chest, her heart picks up, tripping over itself, and in the base of her gut and the back of her mind, something clicks like a penny dropping from a height. 

_ Oh.  _

When Missy reluctantly settles, so too does the quiet. 

Laughter dwindling, Jae’s grin remains. “Have any pets, Yaz? If you do, I hope for your sake they’re not as evil as mine.” 

A beat passes where Jae almost reaches out to retract the question and tuck it squarely back past her lips to swallow down and ignore. 

She’s a millisecond away from apologising for her nosiness when a kerfuffle sounds from the other end of the mic and a head of chocolate brown pops up, tongue lapping clumsily at Yaz’s neck. 

_ “Um —”  _

When Jae jumps up in excitement, Missy hurtles from her lap to the door with a screech. “You have a  _ dog? _ ”

“Oh, my  _ God,  _ hello, you,” Jae croons through the screen, because there’s a  _ dog _ and it’s beautiful and dopey as it nudges at Yaz’s neck and she’d love to get to know it. “What’s your name?”

Yaz secures an arm around the dog’s middle and treats it to a few pets while Jae peers closer. “ _ Y-yeah. This is Luna.” _

_ “ _ Luna?!” Jae echoes, wide eyes in competition with her broadening grin. “That’s a brilliant name. Yaz, I don’t even know her yet and I already love her.”

Unable to harness in her enthusiasm, Jae tilts her head and chuckles at the canine looking back at her. “How old is she, Yaz? Have you had her since she was a pup?” Half an exhale in. “Oh! Does she know any cool tricks? I bet she does.” Half an exhale out. “She seems like a good girl to me. She’s so pretty, too. I’d love to meet her.” 

When Luna glances up, tongue lapping free, Jae can’t contain her glee. “Look at that face!”

It’s only then that she notices Yaz’s wary smile and she reigns herself in, guilt stirring to life in her gut. She grimaces in apology and takes a breath. “Sorry. I love dogs — so much I can get a bit over-excited sometimes — If you couldn’t tell.”

_ “Jae, it’s fine. Honestly. I’ll answer any questions you have about her. I love her a lot, too,”  _ Yaz insists gently, putting her worries on the backburner for now. Jae props her chin in her palms, paying their work no mind when Luna wriggles in her lap with a dopey look on her friendly face. 

If computers allowed for dimensional travel, she’d wish for nothing more right now. 

_ “She’s three years old and I’ve had her since she was a puppy. She’s actually — um—”  _ Jae is patient when Yaz pauses, observing brows knitted in contemplation. _ “She’s a service dog,”  _ she finishes, taking a short inhale as though bracing for impact. 

But Jae is nonplussed, the corner of her mouth twitching up with the pull of gratitude. Frankly, she’s honoured to be on the receiving end of such honesty. Yaz’s trust is implicit and weighty and she makes an immediate promise to herself not to threaten it. 

For the time being, she keeps her lips sealed to allow for Yaz to continue. 

_ “The proper name for it is psychiatric assistance dog. She does a lot for me, but I don’t want to bore you with the details,”  _ Yaz divulges not without insecurity; the telltale signs of which linger in her averted gaze and the way she returns her attention to her canine rather than face the camera. 

“Yaz,” Jae starts, tilting her head, rolling her cheek into her palm and grinning lopsidedly. “That’s  _ so _ far from boring. That’s  _ amazing _ . She must be a very special dog.”

As though sensing topic change which puts her in the spotlight, Luna’s tail begins wagging, the steady beat against the arm of Yaz’s desk chair coaxing a chuckle from Jae. 

Yaz smiles — endearing and adoring and downright illegal — towards her dog. “ _ Yeah, she is. Aren’t you, Luna?” _

A natural moment of pause leaves Yaz to pet and ruffle the canine still perched in her lap while Jae watches on. 

It takes only a few minutes for Jae’s curiosity to jump ahead of her restraint. “If you don’t mind me asking,” she starts, straightening up, fingers returning to her notepad if only to toy at dog-eared pages. “What exactly does she do?” a beat passes, “Sorry, I’m just intrigued. You don’t have to —” 

Yaz’s voice cuts through the connection as it blinkers for a moment.  _ “No, no! It’s fine, honestly. I don’t mind talking about it.” _

Breathing a faint sigh of relief, Jae relaxes, crossing her ankles beneath her chair and folding a corner of the page at the same time. 

She presses out the crease just as Yaz starts her explanation.  _ “So, basically, she’s trained to sense panic and anxiety attacks, along with preventing destructive behaviours,”  _ she informs through practised words.  _ “I can — show you what I mean, if you like?” _

Jae pauses, brows knitting — the last thing she wants is to intentionally set off Yaz’s anxiety.  _ One day you’ll learn to keep your mouth shut, Jae.  _ Feeling childish, she shakes her head. “I mean, not if it’s going to trigger you or anything, Yaz — or stress you out if you’re not comfortable,” she insists gently, reaching up to nudge a blonde lock aside. “That’s the last thing I’d want to do."

But Yaz is kind in her dismissal, her features softening.  _ “It won’t, I promise.” _

Still, it doesn’t fully convince her. “As long as you’re sure?” Jae checks. 

_ “I’m sure.” _ Yaz sends her next smile Jae’s way, and what kind of selfish being wouldn’t return it tenfold? 

_ “So, if I do this,”  _ she starts, lifting her hand from Luna’s brown fur to her arm and scrawling her nails against the material of her floral blouse with intent. A dark snout appears in an instant, nosing at the offending action until she can halt it in its harmful progress. 

Jae’s eyes are wide as she takes it in, her pulse picking up from a regular drumbeat to a rapid crescendo. “That’s incredible,” she whispers in awe, out of the way of the mic. 

_ “She’s also trained for deep pressure therapy, which means, when I need it, she puts the pressure of her body weight on my lap,”  _ Yaz continues in spite of Jae’s open fascination. “ _ And what that does is help relieve physical and mental anxiety and calm me down. So, when you asked me if I had a pet earlier, she sensed my anxiety and that’s why she hopped up here.” _

But that means — Jae baulks, an apology on her lips immediately. “Oh, wait — I’m so sorry, Yaz, I had no idea — me and my big mouth, always talking before I think. I’m sorry if I caused you any anxiety.”

She’s comforted somewhat by Yaz’s brief chuckle and the way she brushes the occasion aside.  _ “Don’t worry about it, Jae. You couldn’t have known. It happens often enough anyway.” _

Another comfortable quiet settles while Jae plucks up a discarded scrap of paper and rolls it between thumb and forefinger into a ball, then studies the newly formed atoms.  _ “ _ Yaz?” she prompts quietly, fully aware of the apprehension lacing her tone. 

_ “Yeah?” _

Jae takes a slow inhale through her nose and glances back up. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” she implores in earnest. “But how come that question gives you so much anxiety?”

The second Yaz’s smile falters, Jae exhales through her teeth in a hiss, lips twitching into a guilty grimace, but then —

_ “Well, I have — uh — run into a few people who’ve been a bit judgmental about Luna being a service dog,”  _ she admits with a troubled expression Jae never wants to coax from her again. 

_ “Because she’s for mental health and because it’s not a ‘visible illness’, people don’t take it seriously. So, it has ended up with me receiving some — not so nice comments in the past.” _

Her eyes dim and she glances down at her friendly canine. “Mostly the — erm — older generation, to be honest.”

Oh.  _ Oh. _

Jae huffs out a breath and shakes her head, eyes rolling skyward. She could’ve predicted that demographic from a mile off. With a frown which creases the spot between her brows, she meets the other woman’s gaze through the screen. “Bloody boomers — don’t know what they’re on about,” she scoffs, thoughts centring on an innocent walk through a park disrupted by the selfish ignorance of a few. “Honestly, people can be so flippin’ ignorant, Yaz. Especially when they spout facts which are such rubbish they ought to be spewing sewage. I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with that in the past.”

She gets a huff of laughter for her efforts, which reduces the heat to a low simmer, at least. 

_ “Yeah, it sucks — a lot. But those interactions are rare,”  _ Yaz informs her quietly though she knows it shouldn’t be happening at all. At this point, resignation is clear; being resigned to those interactions is what can keep her prepared. 

But that shouldn’t be the case. “That doesn’t give those people any excuse, though. You shouldn’t have had any interactions like that at all,” Jae sighs in frustration, but one glance towards the furry friend still within sight of the camera makes her wilt. There’s time for ranting later — to Bill, most probably. 

“And for what it’s worth, Yaz, I think you’re really brave. I’m glad you’ve got a dog as wonderful as Luna with you through all of this,” she supplies in a softer tone, earning a returning smile and the fluttering of lashes when she sends one Yaz’s way. 

Yaz’s head ducks faintly, cheeks pinkening even through the grainy quality of her webcam.  _ “Thank you, Jae. That really means a lot.” _

“Honestly. It’s wonderful. I reckon you don’t get told that enough,” Jae implores with the same eagerness she’d shown towards her art. When she takes her in again, Yaz is blushing furiously and shifting in her seat with the weight of her bashfulness. 

_ “Thanks, Jae,”  _ Yaz replies quietly, hands fidgeting out of sight of the camera until Luna springs up again to rest her head in Yaz’s lap. 

Now that Jae has knowledge of the dog’s skills and intuition, her heart sinks and she blurts the first thing to come to mind. “Um — do you want to know a story?” 

Yaz doesn’t reply straight away, so she ploughs forward in a flit of panic. 

“Can you see the scar on my chin? Right here?” Jae leans forward and shifts into a  _ very _ unflattering angle in the camera to show off the faint white line gracing her skin. “I fell over a dog when I was six when I was rollerblading down a hill,” she supplies, using her tongue to jut her bottom lip out and emphasise the scar, as well as her comical facial expression. “I still love dogs, though — and it wasn’t his fault, bless him. He just wanted to play. I think his name was Teddy, but he wanted to be called Elektro; the king of the world.”

_ “How do you know —” _

“He told me.”

Yaz’s laughter is a blessing for her racing pulse and with a goofy grin, she draws back from the camera to settle into her desk chair. 

“You’re so strange,” Yaz scoffs, the good-natured tease brightening Jae’s expression tenfold. 

“Nothing wrong with being strange, Yaz.” Jae winks. 

_ “Suppose you’ll be telling me Missy doesn’t wanna be called Missy next.” _

Jae shoots her a look; deadpan and unflinching. “You’re right, she doesn't. She much prefers The Destroyer of Worlds.” 

To the sound of Yaz’s resulting laughter, Jae takes in her new gathering of notes and scribbles and reminders, gnawing at her bottom lip in thought as to how she’s going to organise it all. 

Her phone lights up with a new email from Donna and she pulls a face, only briefly glancing over the screen before setting it aside again. 

By the time she glances back up, Yaz is handing a treat to Luna just in range of the camera, and Jae grins at the sight of a fervently wagging tail before the dog jumps up to retrieve it. 

As though the task has coaxed an epiphany out of her, Yaz looks to her side and her lips part in surprise. 

“Alright, Yaz?” Jae prompts gently, crossing an ankle over her knee and toying at the fabric of her shirt as she watches on. When she shifts in her seat, she finds her limbs surprisingly stiff. 

_ “Oh my god, it’s — it’s almost ten, Jae,” _ Yaz replies in shock which is quickly reciprocated. 

Huh. It certainly doesn’t feel like the whole evening has fallen through their grasp. 

When she spares a glance towards her open window, she’s surprised to find only streetlamps and their casted shadows and light. 

_ “I’m sorry, I should let you go, I had no idea.” _

“Hey, hey, it’s fine, honestly. It’s been nice to talk to someone other than Bill for once,” Jae replies flippantly, perfectly relaxed and comfortable enough to continue. “Plus, it’s not like I’ve got anywhere to be,” she jokes, hands raised in gesticulation. 

It seems to settle Yaz somewhat if her faint nod and relaxing shoulders are anything to go by.  _ “Bet you’re glad you have a flatmate through all this, though; kinda wish I was living with someone right now.”  _

Jae hums her acknowledgement, empathy tinting her smile. She’s even more glad that Yaz has Luna right now. “Yeah, Bill and I have lived together for a couple of years now. I think I’m driving her a bit mad because I hate being cooped up like this but I know she loves me really.”

Yaz’s voice is smaller this time around, laced with something indecipherable.  _ “Couple of years? Wow.” _

There’s something in her tone she recognises, and it only takes putting two together for Jae to swallow heavily and flush pink. 

Quick. Make it obvious. 

“Okay, but, Yaz, you should count yourself lucky you live on your own because then you don’t have to deal with your best mate and her girlfriend going at it through the phone  _ every bloody night!”  _

A muffled sound comes from the other end of the line, followed closely by — 

_ “You’re not serious?”  _

Jae nods her head, reaching up to card a hand through her hair and ruffle it aside. “I am serious! Yaz, they’re like rabbits. I have to put earphones in if I want a good night’s sleep.” A beat. “There must be some kind of chemicals in the air at the minute — I swear. Everyone’s turned into raging horny people.” 

Yaz’s answering laughter sends a shot of serotonin towards her system and Jae returns it in kind. 

_ “You think that’s bad? I have to wake up to  _ **_someone’s_ ** _ awful dog breath every morning.” _

Jae gasps, a hand flying to her chest. “Are you being mean to poor luna?”

Yaz squares her with a grin.  _ “Yes, I am.” _

Jae wilts under her gaze, nose scrunching with the effort of her grimace. “To be fair, morning dog breath does sound pretty bad.”

_ “Smells it too!”  _ Yaz interjects. 

“ _ But _ , at least your pet likes you!” Jae argues with a pointed glance to the ankle propped up on her knee. She reaches out curiously to trace around a raised scratch in her skin. 

Yaz’s teasing smirk is enough to predict her next comment. _ “That’s what you get for having a pet that wants to be called The Destroyer of Worlds.” _

Jae purses her lips, shaking her head. Behind her, Missy hops up onto her bed and takes over one of her pillows. “You know what? I think it’s a conspiracy.”

_ “Don’t _ ,” Yaz groans, and Jae downright  _ sniggers _ .  _ “You sound like my dad.” _

“Your dad sounds like a smart man.”

_ “Seems like you’d both get on like a house on fire; both love conspiracies and both bad with technology.” _

Well, that’s just  _ rude _ . Jae says as much when she folds her arms and slumps back in her chair with a squeak of worn plastic. “Oi! I’ve only blown a computer up  _ once, _ thank you very much.”

Yaz’s expression shifts from bemusement to disbelief, then worry.  _ “Are you —”  _

“No, I’m only joking,” Jae grins. “It was just the keyboard.” 

_ “Oh my God.” _

“So, anyway,” Jae starts with a smug grin in return for Yaz’s rolling eyes. Better now than never. “Speaking of me being a technophobe that’s prone to blowing up computers — would you mind if we swapped numbers? Just so that if we come up with ideas it’s quicker to bounce them around rather than rushing to a computer and risk them flying out your brain.”

Excellent segue. Smashed it. 

She fights the warmth flooding to her cheeks with the alternative insinuation and ducks her head when she can’t deny it. Of  _ course,  _ she wants her number. She’d regret it for the rest of her life if she didn’t allow herself this chance. 

The wait for her response makes her fidget with a loose thread at the ankle of her cuffed black jeans. 

_ “Yeah, of course. Good idea, Jae.” _

A slow exhale of relief and Jae straightens up once more. She’d fist pump if she weren’t still in view. 

“Brilliant! Okay, let me just —” She picks up her phone, ignoring the email from Donna once more, and allows her gaze to flit between the icons. Bill told her how to do this, once; she’s sure of it. She taps her index finger against an orange icon displaying an open book; a contact book, perhaps? 

But all she coaxes from the application is  _ literal _ novels. “Erm — Yaz?”

_ “Yeah?” _

Jae makes a pitiful noise of desperation. “How do I add a contact again?”

_ “You —” _

“What?”

_ “You don’t know how to add a contact?” _

Jae’s lips pull into a grimace and she glances through the rest of the icons in display. They’re very pretty, in all their colours and creative icons, but she has no idea what they mean. The next one she taps brings up a half-finished game of solitaire — oh! She’d been wondering how to get back to that. 

Now’s probably not the right time to get back into it, despite how much she’d love to move the ace of hearts to the row at the top. 

“I—” she starts, squinting when she presses the button on the side and the screen turns black. So  _ that _ is how to turn it off. Huh. “I  _ do _ . I just — sort of —” Another tap brings up her music, which she cuts off after the first notes of  _ Yellow _ by Coldplay. “— forgot.”

Another three mishaps and an accidental phone call to her old university’s sexual health clinic later, Jae finally inputs Yaz’s contact details. With a cheer, she shoots off a text containing a GIF of a dancing dog to double-check she has the right number. 

When Yaz’s phone pings with the message and she shakes her head in amusement, Jae beams. “I love G-I-Fs, Yaz.” 

_ “It’s pronounced —” _ Yaz starts, the words taking backstage when Jae happily scrolls through the selection of moving images.  _ “Never mind.” _

Four gifs of dogs later, Jae’s attention is drawn back to the screen by the sound of a throat clearing. 

_ “Uh –– Jae? If you want you can follow me on Instagram, too. It’s up to you of course but I post as much as I can. I just thought you might like to because, well––” _ Yaz trails off not without insecurity, and immediately Jae wants to settle the anxious line between her brows. 

With a grin, she locates the app after her second attempt and searches up her account. “Already one step ahead of you, Yaz. I had a look through your page this morning.”

_ “Oh!”  _ A little more confidence returns to her tone and Jae falls head-first into her faint smirk.  _ “So you’re the one who went through and liked all my posts.”  _

Jae drags in a breath through her nose and rubs at her stinging eyes as a way to conceal her embarrassment. “I’ll admit I didn’t realise  _ how _ many I’d liked until afterwards.”

_ “Gotta admit, I’m just surprised you actually  _ **_know_ ** _ how to work Instagram” _ Yaz murmurs under her breath, knowing full well Jae can hear. 

“Oi!”

It takes another hour until Luna tugs at Yaz’s sleeve enough to coax her into breaking the bubble they’ve manufactured together through distance, and with a resigned hum and a small smile, Jae props her elbows on the table and gives the canine a wave. 

“Hey, it’s getting late and I’m pretty sure Luna deserves some attention now, Yaz. I won’t keep you any longer,” Jae murmurs gently, hoping her tone conveys the hope that this is the first of  _ many _ interactions. “This was really good, though. I haven’t been this productive in  _ weeks _ .” 

_ “I think you’re right, yeah. She’s getting a bit antsy with me now. Reckon she needs the loo,”  _ Yaz chuckles, offering the dog a pet behind the ears. The blissed expression Luna grants her makes Jae chuckle.  _ “And thanks, really. It’s been nice to talk to someone other than a furry animal, as great as this one is.”  _ Another pat when Luna whines in complaint. 

“She says she heard that, Yaz,” Jae teases if only to earn another grin. “Anyway, I’ll leave you both be, but I’ll be in touch, definitely. You won’t be able to get rid of me now.”

_ “Oh,  _ **_no_ ** _.” _

_ “Hey!”  _

Yaz softens, blinking big brown eyes at the camera and baring her teeth when she smiles.  _ “Goodnight, Jae. Hope your mate doesn’t keep you up too late. Talk soon, yeah?” _

“ _ Ugh _ , don’t remind me. Bet they’re already at it. But, yes, definitely speak soon!” Jae chimes, waving to the screen. “Goodnight, Yaz. Goodnight, Luna.” 

It’s surprising when the call ends and Jae slumps back in her chair with a smile which stubbornly refuses to ease, how truly quiet the flat can be. 

The kitchen is empty when Jae sneaks inside for a glass of water, and she can already hear Bill chattering away on the phone from her adjoining bedroom. So much for peace and quiet. 

To a chorus of murmurs rising in pitch and a breathy hum, Jae scrunches her nose and withholds an exasperated groan. Another pack of custard creams tucked under her arm, she heads back to her room. 

She shoots off an email to Yaz with a more in-depth description of the main characters in her children’s book and checks her phone for any new texts from her counterpart. 

Finding nothing of the sort, Jae changes into a pair of pyjamas and settles in for the night, trying her hardest to resist picking up her phone while a film plays, half-observed, from her laptop. 

“What do _ you _ think, Missy?” she murmurs when the feline prowls in through her door, head held high, searching most probably for something to destroy. Jae pats the spot next to her on her bed, tilting her head when the tabby cat leaps up after some thought. “Reckon I should text her? Or should I leave it for now? Don’t wanna come on too strong, y’know.”

Missy mewls out her response, tangling her claws in Jae’s hair and kneading. 

Plucking a paw from a knot in her hair, Jae sighs. “You’re not helping much, gotta say.”

The next swipe lands against her brow and Jae groans, sitting up to make the cat scamper away. 

“Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you?”

Resigned to death-by-cat, Jae nudges her laptop to her bedside unit and lays awake for as long as she can to keep an eye on the temperamental creature. 

She’s blissfully settled in the hands of slumber until the early hours of the morning when a  _ crack  _ sounds beside her, then a sudden pressure engulfs her senses. 

Flicking on her bedside lamp, she glances around in disarray to find the remains of her plant pot scattered about her pillow from the shelf behind her. She doesn’t look in time to see Missy scrambling from the room and heading for Bill’s. 

Picking up her phone, she wipes soil from her eyes and draws the camera function up. 

_ Jae [3:47AM]: image  _

_ Jae [3:47AM]: if you wanna know how my night’s gone my plant just fell on my head while I was asleep. Hope you’re sleeping well! _

She’s a mouthful into her cereal come morning when her phone  _ pings _ with a new message, hair only just drying from her soil-laden shower hours earlier. 

_ Yaz [9:13AM]: image _

_ Yaz [9:13AM]: Oh my GOD, i don’t even know how to process that _

_ Yaz [9:14AM]: hope you’re a big fan of soil I guess? _

Jae snorts out a chuckle and drags up a quick web search; one of the few things she  _ can _ navigate properly, before shooting the first article her way. In the meantime, she takes in the selfie she’d sent in return, her cheeks flushing at the sight of sleep-doused features and the messy bun atop her head. 

How is it possible for someone to roll out of bed looking good? 

She thinks back to her soil-covered edition and cringes. 

_ Jae [9:16AM]: [link]  _ **_Gardengate: Thirteen Rarely-Known Uses of Soil_ **

_ Jae [9:16AM]: apparently it’s a good exfoliator? Who would’ve known _

_ Yaz [9:17AM]: should’ve left it on x _

Jae can’t hold back her laughter this time, ducking her head to muffle it against her forearm just after Bill has strolled in. 

“What’s so funny?” Bill quips in curiosity, brows furrowing as she sets about making coffee. “You watching funny dog videos again?”

When Jae glances up, her cheeks are pink and she is noticeably distracted. “Huh?”

Bill pauses, eyes widening. “Wait — you’re all pink and giggly. Are you talking to someone?”

“And is that  _ soil _ on your top?” 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! kudos and comments are always appreciated!


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